


Can't Imagine: Skimmons Drabble & Ficlet Collection

by alessandralee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Romance, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-25 20:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 10,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of the Skimmons drabbles and ficlets I have written, mostly prompted via tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bikini

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going forward, I will be posted all of my Skimmons drabbles here. There are approximately 14 already posted in my first drabble collection (titled AoS Tumblr Drabble Prompts), they will not be reposted here.
> 
> Other ships I write for frequently, may receive their own collections. Skye/Lance already has one. I will be starting another collection for gen fics and pairings I write less often. Anything featuring Jemma and Skye that is explicitly unromantic (namely, ficlets that involve them interacting with each other while being romantically involved with other people) will be posted in the gen fic collection.

"I like how that sounds."

Jemma rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Of course you do. I could have told you I’m infiltrating Hydra again and you’d be excited, provided I told you I was doing it in a bikini."

"Depends on the bikini," Skye jokes. "If you wore the brown tank top one, I would never agree to it, but that navy blue one from the time we—"

"Skye," Jemma nearly screams.

"There’s no one around to listen," she protests. "But really I am just extremely excited to take a couple days off and relax on a beach with the woman I love, while sipping fruity drinks."

"Now that’s more like it."

"But you should definitely bring the blue bikini."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written November 10th, 2014


	2. Paramedic AU

Jemma’s been told on multiple occasions that she has a morbid sense of humor. Honestly, working as a paramedic, she kind of has to, otherwise she’d just come home depressed every night.

So when the cute girl she’s been eying across the restaurant starts to choke, Jemma can’t help but think that this some sort of karmic gift.

Provided the girl doesn’t die.

Calmly, Jemma crosses the room and wraps her arms around the girl’s abdomen.

Her dining companions give her space as soon as they realize what she’s doing.

Making a fist she pumps inwards against he girl’s ribs until she hears her spit out whatever she’s choking on and start breathing normally again.

Her karmic gift theory is proved true when the girl stops by Jemma’s table after she’s done eating, dropping a piece of paper in front of her with the name Skye and phone number.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written November 18th, 2014


	3. Sock Skating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic AU: sock skating in the newly waxed floors

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Skye asks, surveying the new apartment.

“That it’s going to take all day to get these boxes inside?” Jemma replies, grim-faced.

“No,” Skye says. Sometimes Jemma is just too practical and right-brained. “I mean, you’re right, but that’s not what I was thinking?”

“And you were thinking?”

“That the living room floor is perfect for sock skating?”

“Sock skating?”

“You know, sliding around on the wood floors like it’s an ice skating rink?” If it wasn’t for the fact that Jemma’s mentioned her childhood before, Skye would sometimes think she never had one.

“But we bought a rug,” Jemma protests.

“Then we’d better get this out of the way right now,” Skye kicks off her shoes and pulls Jemma towards the living room.

If anyone else had suggested this (not that many of Jemma’s friends ever would), she would have refused. But Skye has a way of selling Jemma on things she’d never normally do.

She even enjoys them, most of the time.

Which is why they’re now sliding across the floor in their socks. First, Skye attempts to show off the moves she learned in the skating class her father signed her up for when she was eight. Maybe she was more graceful back then.

Jemma’s natural competitive streak manifests in a competition to see who can slide farther along the floor in one go.

Skye would have won, she swears, but her aim isn’t great, and she crashes into Jemma, sending them both falling to the floor in a pile of tangled limbs.

“We definitely need that rug,” Jemma comments, rubbing at an elbow that will probably be bruised tomorrow. She tries to sit up, but Skye’s weight on top of her makes that difficult.

“I don’t know,” Skye smiles her most mischievous smile, knowing she has Jemma trapped, “I’m pretty comfortable right now.”

Leaning down, she presses light kisses to Jemma’s forehead, nose, and finally her lips.

She completely misses the equally mischievous grin forming on Jemma’s face.

In one fell swoop of surprising athletic prowess, Jemma shifts her hips and rolls over Skye so she’s now laid on top of her.

“You’re right, this is a very comfortable position.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written November 19th, 2014


	4. Breakfast in Bed

Skye’s ideal day off involves sleeping until at least noon. So when she’s nudged awake at 10 in the morning, she’s less than enthusiastic.

Then she smells the bacon.

It takes her a few moments to process anything beyond the delicious smell of bacon, but when she rubs the sleep from her eyes, she notices that Jemma is the one holding the plate full of bacon.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” Skye’s voice is groggy.

“I had sick days saved up, and I wanted to surprise you,” Jemma explains, far to cheery for the AM hours.

“With bacon?”

“And eggs, bagels, hash browns, coffee and pineapple juice,” Jemma sets the tray down on Skye’s nightstand and points to each food.

“My favorites,” Skye comments. Jemma’s favorite breakfast food is cinnamon rolls with extra icing. Skye once nearly burned their apartment down trying to make them from scratch.

Jemma slides onto her side of the bed (which was cold when Skye was woken up, so she wouldn’t be surprised if this is actually Jemma’s second breakfast), and leans over Skye to grab her own cup of coffee. Skye places the tray of food in between the two of them.

Thursday morning breakfast in bed with the world’s cutest girlfriend, how did Skye get so lucky?

“So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Skye asks between bites.

Jemma shrugs.

They’re both in bed already, so Skye has a few ideas.


	5. Thunderstorms

“I’m not afraid of thunder,” Skye insists when Jemma’s arms wrap around her under the covers.

“You’re shaking,” Jemma points out, as delicately as possible.

“Because it’s so fucking loud,” Skye mutters.

She’s an adult; she knows she has nothing to fear from loud noises. But the way it breaks the comfortable quiet of Jemma’s quiet breathing and the hum of the refrigerator down the half just sets Skye on edge.

“Just try and relax,” Jemma whispers in her ear.

Clearly, Jemma has no such problems; she’s about to fall right back asleep.

Skye leans back into her warm embrace. She may not be a fan of storms like this, but at least with Jemma around they’re slightly more tolerable.

Still, waking up tomorrow morning is going to suck.


	6. Puppy Eyes

When Jemma finds Skye crying on the couch, she fears the worst. Did she get fired? Did something happen to her dad?

“Is everything okay?” she asks, hesitantly sitting down next to her.

Skye just points to the television screen.

It’s on mute, but Jemma’s pretty sure it’s playing an ASPCA commercial.

She wants to laugh, she’s so glad it’s not something serious. But it’s probably not the best idea to laugh at your crying girlfriend, no matter how over the top her reaction is.

Instead she rubs a comforting hand up and down Skye’s back.

“Those poor puppies,” Skye says through her sobs.

“I know, I know,” Jemma whispers. “But they’re safe now.”

“For now, but what if they don’t find homes?” Skye’s crying gets louder. This is the opposite of the reaction Jemma was hoping for.

She tries to pry the remote out of Skye’s hand, so she can at least change the channel to something a little happier, but Skye’s grip is strong.

“I’m sure they will, the ASPCA is really good at that,” she assures Skye, although she honestly has no idea.

Later that night, Skye makes her sit through a good fifteen minutes worth of sad videos on the ASPCA’s website. Jemma suggests they make a donation, but Skye has bigger plans.

A week later, they’re the proud owners of a mutt Skye insists on calling Rodney. Jemma’s not thrilled about it, but it’s better than watching Skye cry at her computer screen again.


	7. Peanut Butter

“What is the peanut butter doing in the fridge?” Skye asks after an exhaustive search of nearly every kitchen cupboard.

“I put it there,” Jemma says, as if it’s no big deal.

It’s a big deal.

“Why would you do that?” Skye asks. If she’d known Jemma was the type to put peanut butter in the refrigerator, maybe she wouldn’t have moved in with the other woman.

Jemma shrugs, “I just do. I mean, I put the jelly in there, so why not the peanut butter?”

“Maybe because it turns the peanut butter rock solid,” Skye suggests.

“It does not,” Jemma insists, getting up from her seat on the living room couch to prove it.

She grabs the spoon out of Skye’s hand and sticks it into the already uncapped jar of peanut butter. It’s a struggle, but she manages to scoop a spoonful out.

“See?” she holds it up to Skye as proof.

“And how much effort did that take?” Skye counters. “Peanut butter should not require effort. That’s what makes it the perfect snack food. It’s easy to scoop, if you don’t leave it in the fridge like a barbarian, it goes well on everything, and it goes even better by itself.”

Jemma notes that Skye gets unreasonably worked up about peanut butter. It’s cute, but it’s not a big enough deal for her to continue arguing about it.

“Skye,” she places a hand on each of Skye’s shoulders, careful not the get the spoonful of peanut butter in her right hand caught in Skye’s hair, “if I promise not to put the peanut butter in the fridge anymore, will you let this go?”

Skye considers the proposition before speaking, “Only if you admit that putting peanut butter in the fridge is weird.”

“Putting peanut butter in the fridge is weird,” Jemma says with no hesitation.

“And that you’re a total freak for doing it,” Skye continues.

Jemma pauses briefly this time before saying, “And I’m a totally freak for doing it.”

“And Skye is an amazing girlfriend for tolerating such a weirdo.”

“And Skye is really pushing her luck here.”

They both giggle, and Jemma holds out her spoonful of peanut butter to Skye, who leans over to lick the spoon clean.


	8. Flowers

Really, this is all Skye’s father’s fault. She’d asked him for advice before her big date with Jemma, the scientist who frequents the same coffee shop as she does.

She’d expected something along the lines of ‘be yourself,’ or ‘don’t worry about it too much, or even ‘wear something nice, not that ratty old sweater I told you to toss a long time ago.’

Instead he told her, “Buy her flowers. Women love flowers.”

Skye’s a woman, and generally prefers chocolate, so she’s not sure how sound her dad’s advice is. But she still finds herself up late the night before the big date, googling the meaning of different types of flowers.

She rejects yellow Chrysanthemum because her admiration of Jemma isn’t much of a secret anymore. Delphiniums are for boldness, which Skye needed plenty of in order to ask Jemma out in front of her perennially disapproving best friend (although she did get a small smile out of him at one point, so she likes to think she’s growing on Fitz). Or maybe she should go with hibiscus, a symbol of delicate beauty. Jemma has that in spades.

When she enters the flower shop, she’s decided to by sunflowers. According to her research, they stand for adoration, and that’s a pretty accurate description of her feelings for Jemma. Also, Skye just thinks they’re really pretty.

But her plans change when she spots a tiny plastic pot near the register. She’s found something better than sunflowers, Jemma’s going to love this.

Skye’s still nervous when she knocks on the door to Jemma’s apartment, but the small pot in her hands gives her a little boost of confidence.

“Skye,” Jemma greets her cheerfully, “so good to see you.”

Skye is momentarily stunned by how good Jemma looks. She wants to say something, but all that’s coming to mind is ‘hubba hubba’ and that’s completely inappropriate.

Luckily, Jemma’s distracted by the plant in Skye’s hand, so she doesn’t actually have to say anything.

“Is that a Venus Flytrap?” Jemma asks. She definitely sounds excited.

Skye nods.

“How lovely. Come in, let me find somewhere to put it.”

Skye definitely made the right choice.


	9. Standing Still

Now is not a good time for Skye to be so distracted. There’s a week left in the semester and she still has one paper to write, three finals to take, and a group project to hand in (and, of course, she’s the only group member putting any effort in).

But her dad’s coming up at the end of the week, to drive her home for Christmas, and he wants to meet Skye’s new girlfriend.

The only problem is that Jemma hasn’t actually used the word girlfriend yet.

Is she Skye’s girlfriend? They’ve been hanging out since just before classes started, and there’s been kissing involved for just over three months (three months and four days, actually). They’re definitely dating, and Skye’s pretty sure it’s exclusive.

But girlfriends? Skye knows she wants to be, she’s just not sure if Jemma does too.

She should just ask. But every time she comes close to doing it, she pictures Jemma being horrified by the suggestions and never speaking to her again. No, Jemma’s not really the kind of person to react like that, but it still manages to scare Skye off every time.

But tonight’s the night. Skye’s dad keeps asking when Jemma will be free, and she needs to give him an answer. Also, being stuck in this stand-still is really bad for Skye’s productivity.

There’s a knock on the door of Skye’s dorm room. Jemma offered to help her study for her bio final and, quite frankly, if anyone can get her through biology it’s Jemma.

“The dining hall had a stir-fry station, so I made us each some,” Jemma announces once Skye opens the door. “I even put pineapple in your, even though I still find that weird.”

“Who care if it’s weird; it’s delicious,” Skye says as she takes the Styrofoam boxes out of Jemma’s hands.

Skye’s roommate is out on a date, so they spread their food out on the floor and dig in.

“I found my old flashcards from Bio 101, so I brought them with me,” Jemma says after she’s finished most of her stir-fry.

This the part where Skye usually makes a comment about Jemma not really needing flash cards, she’s smart enough without them. But she’s too busy worrying about the question she knows she has to ask.

It’s now or never.

“Are we together?” Skye blurts out.

Jemma looks up from her bag, where she was in the process of fishing out her stack of flashcards.

“Like are we girlfriends?” Jemma clarifies.

Skye nods and braces for the worst.

“I certainly hope so,” Jemma sounds insulted by the question. “That’s what I’ve been telling my mum when she calls.”

Skye is so relieved she practically melts back against the leg of her desk.

“Mum and dad wanted me to bring you home for Christmas,” Jemma continues, “but I told her I wasn’t going to subject you to the entire extended family this soon. My grandmother can be a bit… nosy.”

Jemma’s parents want to meet her. Now Skye’s relieved and excited.

“I told them I’d ask you about coming to visit over the summer. They’re hoping you’ll say yes.”

Skye wants to scream yes. Not only is Jemma her girlfriend, but her parents want to meet her, and Jemma thinks they’ll still be together this summer.

What a night.


	10. Childhood

“She’s five, Jem, it’s totally normal,” Skye tells her wife for the third time.

“I wasn’t drawing on the walls when I was five,” Jemma protests.

“No, you were probably dissecting dead forest animals at that age,” Skye rolls her eyes. “Face it, sweetie, you’re the one who was strange.”

“That was only once,” Jemma huffs. “And it convinced my mother that skipping a few grades would be best for me, so it all worked out for the best.”

“Yeah, well I’ll take my daughter drawing on the walls with washable markers over cutting up bunny rabbit any day.”

Now it’s Jemma’s turn to roll her eyes, “It was a toad.”

“Like that’s any better.”

“Fine, I was always a bit of an odd duck. But don’t pretend like you were just the run of the mill, average child,” Jemma puts her hands on her hips.

“Fine, I was weird too. And I’m totally cool with it. After all it led me to you,” Skye grins at Jemma.

“Then you’ll be cool with scrubbing the wall while I tell Ella I’m taking away her television privileges.”


	11. High School Reunion AU

Everyone knows the natural order of things is that high school nerds grow up to be hot and successful and make everyone jealous when they show up at their high school reunions. And that’s exactly what Jemma had planned for tonight.

But by that logic, Skye Coulson should be miserable and divorced and hideous. And while Jemma can’t speak to the first two, the last one is definitely not true.

If anything, she’s gotten even hotter.

Then again, while everyone knew Skye as the pretty, popular daughter of the high school principal, Jemma did get to see her nerdy side every now and then. Mostly because they were lab partners. Skye knew a little too much about video games and computers to just be a casual gamer.

Maybe that rule only applies to rude, vapid cheerleader types. Skye was always too cool for them.

But that’s beside the point. Because Jemma only came to the reunion tonight for two reasons, to flaunt her success and to put that pesky high school crush of hers to bed.

And that high school crush has just flared back to life.

“So tell me, Jemma, what have you been up to since graduation?” Antoine Triplett asks when he sees her lurking on the outskirts of their conversation.

Jemma’s a little surprised by his acknowledgement of her, but then again, he always was the friendly one.

“She’s done groundbreaking work in non-lethal weaponry,” someone answers for her. Jemma’s surprised to realize it’s Skye.

“Yes,” she mumbles in agreement, “that.”

“I’m a really big fan of your work, actually,” Skye addresses Jemma as she continues and Jemma can feel herself blushing. “I run a site that reports on unlawful police and military activity, and the areas where your inventions have been implemented show better relations between law enforcement and the general population.”

Jemma can’t help from grinning. Not only does Skye remember her, she’s been tracking Jemma’s work.

“I’d really love for you to tell me more about it sometime,” Skye suggests.

“Yes, absolutely,” Jemma nods enthusiastically.

“Maybe over dinner?”

Never in a million years did Jemma imagine her high school reunion would turn out like this.


	12. Nap Time

"Shh... they're asleep."

"Both of them?" Jemma sounds surprised.

"The stars have aligned," Skye whispers, "it’s a miracle. Both of our children out cold at the same time. We should go to the petting zoo more often."

"Only if you stop dangling Avery into the goat pen," Jemma insists.

"They’re goats, Jem. They’re harmless," Skye rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

"Tell that to Sir Teddy. I have to performed surgery on him before she wakes up," Jemma leaned into Avery’s crib and pulls out the bear. His left leg is currently sitting on the kitchen table.

Skye sneaks up behind Jemma and wraps her arms around Jemma’s waist.

"Are you sure you have to do that now?" she whispers suggestively in her wife’s ear.

Jemma sighs and leans back against her, “You’re insatiable.”

"You used to like that," Skye’s thumbs rub slow circles over Jemma’s shirt.

"And I still do, but I’m exhausted from playing tug-of-war with a goat, and if our daughter wakes up to an amputee teddy bear there’s going to be hell to pay."

"Fine," Skye sighs dramatically, "But after bedtime?"

"We’ll see," Jemma says tentatively, although the wheels in her brain are certainly spinning.


	13. Expanding

"I think we should have another."

"She’s been with us for two months, Jemma. Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?"

Jemma shrugs, “The adoption process is long, I don’t think it would hurt to get a head start.”

Skye can’t help but smile. Of course Jemma is trying to mask this with practicality.

"The adoption process is long, and it’s also time consuming," Skye points out. "I think our time’s already pretty consumed with Ella."

"That’s a fair point," Jemma concedes. "I’d hate to miss out on parts of her life because we’re already preparing for another baby."

They’d both admitted that it was hard to force themselves to go work in the morning, because all they wanted to do was be with Ella. From the moment they brought her home, scratch that, the moment the adoption agency told them about her, they’d been completely enamored with her.

The fact that they’d already bought enough clothes and toy to keep up with her development for the next eighteen months was proof enough of that.

"We could set a date," Jemma suggests.

"A date?"

"Pick a time period, let’s say eighteen months from now, when we feel that it will be appropriate to start considering expanding our family," Jemma elaborates.

Skye considers this. It’s a bit of a rigid approach, when she’d always been more spontaneous. But on the other hand, it might be the only way to keep Jemma from suggesting another adoption every month or so.

"Eighteen months it is," Skye agrees.

And eighteen months later (to the day), they start the adoption process again.


	14. Pulling Tails

"I told you we should have just gotten that German Shepherd puppy."

"Skye, she is _terrorizing_ the cat. The problem is not our choice of animals,” Jemma watching in horror as Avery pulls on the cat’s tail again.

Alfie hisses at Avery and both Skye and Jemma steel themselves for the inevitable crying.

Instead, Avery hisses back.

"I really didn’t see that coming," Skye shakes her head in amusement.

"I told you, she’s a menace," Jemma says, but she’s laughing. There’s something about a two year old hissing at a cat that’s just hilarious.

But then Avery goes for the tail again and Skye can picture the cat swiping out at her.

She grabs her daughter under the arms and lifts her up before she can make contact.

"We do not pull tails," she reprimands her. "It’s not nice."

Avery pouts and Skye sets her down on Jemma’s lap on the couch before picking up Alfie and sitting next to them.

"We pet the kitty, gently," she instructs her daughter, demonstrating on Alfie, who for unknown reasons has yet to bolt.

Avery doesn’t so much pet the kitty as she pats in the butt.

Skye and Jemma look at each other and shrug. Close enough.


	15. Salmonella

"Don't come complaining to me when you catch salmonella!"

Really, that bowl is full of her eggless decoy dough. It’s become a necessity, because the moment Skye (and Fitz, and Trip, and Bobbi and pretty much everyone except May) realizes Jemma is baking, she materializes in the kitchen and devours nearly an entire bowl of dough.

So no, Skye’s not going to catch salmonella. But she is going to eat dough until she’s sick to her stomach and then continue to eat it until Jemma pulls the bowl out of her hands and forces her out of the kitchen.

So her annoyance still stands.

She still has a pie to make, oatmeal lace cookies to throw in the oven (which takes an unfortunately long time because they’re so thing), and rudolph cookies to frost.

Trip offered to help with the rudolph cookies, and honestly he’s the only one she trusts to assist.

Skye tried to help with Halloween cookies, but she thought blue cats would be more fun than black.

So Skye will not be helping with Christmas cookies.

Even if she begs. Even if she pouts. Even if she kisses Jemma in that spot on the side of her neck that she really—

Jemma compromises and lets her peel apples. It requires no creative thinking and, after all, Skye’s been trained to use knives.


	16. The Wedding Planner

She knew they had ballroom dancing lessons tonight; she booked them.

So really, when her phone rang and Jemma’s name came up on the caller ID, she should have known the groom had bailed on dance class. And she should have let it go to voicemail.

Because there’s no way that Jemma Simmons, actual ray of sunshine, didn’t have plenty of friends who could have stepped in in this situation.

But as usual, Skye’s a glutton for punishment, so of course she volunteered to run down to Melinda May’s dance studio and stand-in for Jemma’s partner.

Because it’s painful enough to ignore the fluttering in her stomach as she helps Jemma taste cakes, it doesn’t hurt enough when they’re looking for flowers and Skye has to remind herself it’s not for _their_ wedding.

No, now Skye has to hold Jemma close and twirl her around a dance floor.

And a sick, traitorous part of her is elated to do it.


	17. Maid of Honor

Of all the dumb things Skye has ever done, perhaps the dumbest was agreeing to be the Maid of Honor in her ex-girlfriend’s wedding.

This was supposed to be the big first step in moving on with her life, in not obsessing over Jemma Simmons. After all, the breakup had been Skye’s idea. And she and Jemma were friends now.

Just friends. Best friends.

Because it’s a lot easier to be best friends living on opposite coasts than it is to girlfriend’s living on opposite coasts. At least, that had been the idea at the time.

And boy was that idea coming back to bite Skye in the ass.

She’d imagined it, her wedding to Jemma. And every time Jemma showed her a photo of a cake, or asked her opinion on invitations, or just said the word wedding, Skye was reminded of that fantasy.

And Jemma said the word wedding a lot (which is understandable, she is planning one).

Skye’s not sure she can take much more of this.


	18. Set Up

"She’s siiiiiingle," Lance leans over and whispers in her ear.

"You’re druuuuunk," Skye turns around to respond.

"It’s my wedding," he grins, "I’m celebrating."

"Whatever makes you happy, dude," Skye shrugs.

"You know what would make me really, really happy?"

She set herself up for this. It’s her own damn fault, she shouldn’t have given him that opening. She knows better.

"What?" she glares at him.

"If you went home with my sister," he points to the girl Skye’s been watching.

"That’s your sister?" Skye’s shocked. That woman looks way too classy to be Lance’s sister. "Also ew. It’s a little weird to talk about your sister’s sex life."

Then again, Lance has always been a little weird.

"It’s not like I want to watch, you perv. I just think you’d hit it off."

"Oh really?"

"Why not? You’re cute and into ladies, she’s cute and into ladies," Lance says.

"And what more could I want," Skye teases him.

"I know," he responds, oblivious. "Hey Jem," he yells across the room.

Luckily, all the wedding guests are used to Lance’s loudmouthed behavior, so his sister’s the only one who pays him any attention. He waves her over.

"Jemma," he introduces her once she joins them, "this is my friend Skye. Skye, this is my sister Jemma."

"Lovely to meet you," Jemma says.

"Her accent’s much nicer than yours," Skye turns to say to Lance.

He pouts dramatically before saying, “I’ll just leave you two to get acquainted.”

Then he heads for the bar.


	19. Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One is blind and falls in love with the other's voice AU

"She sounds cute," Skye says to Ward.

"If you’re into short, English brunettes," Ward replies noncommitally.

"Well today she looks like a blue blur, and I am definitely into blue blurs—"

"with British accents," Ward finishes for her. "You’re into anything with a British accent."

"That’s not true," she argues. "Hunter’s accent is awful."

Ward chuckles, “That’s because Hunter is an awful person.”

"My point stands."

Skye imagines Ward is ducking his head in concession to her. She doesn’t even bother to look in his direction, all she’d see is a black blur (unlike the girl with the lovely voice Ward is always a black blur. Skye has suggested he put some color in his wardrobe every now and then, but he never listens).

"So how much do you know about her?" Ward asks.

"Her name is Jemma Simmons," she begins. "The Scot is Leo Fitz. They’re science grad students working on some project that involves them arguing and talking over each other a lot."

"In the library?"

Skye nods, “In the library. Jemma argues passionately about women in STEM, tea, and the fact that it is not a big deal that she put a cat liver next to Fitz’s lunch. She’s also completely oblivious to the fact that I come up here to listen to her.”

"And that’s been going on for how long?" Ward is clearly amused.

"A while," is all Skye responds with.

"You’ve got it bad," he tells her. "And a little creepy, if I’m being honest."


	20. Stalker

"Don’t look now, but your stalker just walked in," Fitz alerts Jemma.

Jemma turns to the door of the bar, and spots a familiar face.

"She’s not a stalker… I don’t think," she tells him.

"Sure," Fitz sounds skeptical. "Which is why she’s coming over here right now. To not stalk you."

Jemma sighs, “Just don’t say anything rude.”

Fitz snorts.

"Or don’t say anything at all," Jemma corrects herself.

"You look really familiar," Jemma’s not-stalker says. Her eyes look dazed, like she’s already had a few. The guy she walked in with watches from the bar protectively. "Are you in my Psych class?"

"And we go to the same yoga studio," Jemma adds.

"Oh right, and I think I pass by your campus tour group every Monday on my way to my car."

And she works at Jemma’s favorite bakery, studies on the same floor of the library, and ends up at a bunch of the same parties, despite none of Jemma’s friends knowing a thing about her.

But Jemma keeps that to herself.

"I’m Skye," she introduces herself, before turning back towards her friend and yelling across the bar, "Hey Trip look, it’s the cute campus tour girl." She turns back to Jemma. "I talk to him about you a lot."

Trip, for his part, looks embarrassed on Skye’s behalf. Fitz looks and Jemma and mouths the word stalker.

Jemma’s too flattered to care.


	21. Tripped Downstairs

Navigating a spread out campus in the depths of winter can be hazardous, she knows from experience. That’s why they block off most of the staircases from November through April.

Apparently, the girl who just crashed into her didn’t get the memo.

Skye’s a little scraped up, and her flashcards are strewn all over the concrete. She’s about this tear this stranger a new one, when she apologizes.

"I’m so sorry," she says, helping Skye off the frozen ground.

Skye’s so surprised by her cute English accent (not to mention her gorgeous face), that she forgets what she was going to say.

"Are you okay?" the woman asks.

"Yeah, I’m fine," Skye eventually manages to respond. "Just a little cold."

"Oh, I can fix that," the woman says brightly. "Let me buy you a hot chocolate."

Skye wonders if she’s asking her out on a date, or just being friendly. Either way, it can’t hurt to say yes.

"Sure," she agrees. 

Skye leads the way to the campus cafe, after the woman, whose name is Jemma, helps her gather what she can of her flashcards. Because she’s walking in front, she misses Jemma’s small fist-pump of joy, just like she missed the way that Jemma was waiting at the top of those stairs for Skye to walk by.


	22. Lost Pet

There’s a cute girl knocking on Skye’s door, and she’s not sure why. She’s not opposed to it (honestly, it would be great if more cute girls showed up inexplicably at her door), but she has no idea why she’s there. Skye is also wondering why Samson, her dog, isn’t currently barking at the door.

Not that she’s complaining. He gets pretty loud.

She opens up the door to see exactly what brought the lovely woman to her apartment, and Samson barrels past her, into the room..

“Well that would explain why you weren’t barking,” she mutters to him, then turns to the girl. “Thank you for bringing him back. Where exactly was he?”

“The park down the road,” the petite woman replies in an English accent that is just unfair on someone who’s already that pretty. “I was on a run, and I found him. He had a squirrel backed into a corner.”

Skye usually takes Samson to that park for a long walk every Saturday morning (at least she has for the five weeks she’s had him), but she drank a little too much last night and spent most of the morning nursing a hangover. Apparently Samson took a little initiative and went there by himself.

“Oh,” she says. She can’t think of anything else to say to keep the newcomer around, when Samson returns and lays down at the Englishwoman’s feet. “I think he likes you.”

The other woman bends down and pets the dog on his neck. Samson rolls over onto her to give her a better angle to his belly. Like most dogs, he’s a big fan of the belly-rub.

“Well, he is a very well behaved dog,” the Brit says. “At least he was on the ride over.” She then gingerly slides her feet out from under him. “I have to go, I’m meeting a friend for coffee and I’m already running late.”

Skye doesn’t want her to leave. She wants her to stay and talk in her beautiful accent so Skye can drool over her a little more.

There’s a pen and a pad of paper lying on a shelf near the door (because Skye’s always having to write herself last minute notes as she runs out for the day). She grabs them quickly and jots down her name and phone number.

“Here,” she says, “in case you find Samson in the part again. That way you don’t have to risk him ruining your car upholstery.” Skye doesn’t feel the need to mention their adventures in doggy potty training.

Technically her contact information is already on a tag on Samson’s collar, so this is about the lamest excuse Skye has ever come up with. She just hopes the other woman rolls with it.

“But you don’t even know my name,” she says in her English accent. Skye notices that she pockets the slip of paper anyway.

Skye just shrugs. She doesn’t have anything better to offer.

The cute girl then excuses herself and Skye closes the door behind her, scooting Samson back into the apartment.

Thirty seconds later, her phone chimes.

_My name is Jemma, by the way._


	23. At the Drive-In

“How did you even get Mack to loan you the pickup?” Jemma asks as she starts moving things around in the bed. First she sets up the two lawn chairs so they’re facing the screen.

“I reminded him what good friends we are with Fitz and offered to put in a good word for him,” Skye pushes the cooler to the side of the truck so she can climb up.

“Honestly, I’m surprised that worked,” Jemma remarks, pulling snacks out of a bag.

“And I had to promise him I wouldn’t let you even talk about driving it,” Skye adds.

“Hey, I am an excellent driver,” Jemma insists.

Skye busies herself arranging blankets on the chairs and popping open the cooler so she doesn’t have to respond.

“I bought that wine you wanted to try,” Skye eventually changes the subject, “the one that comes in a can.”

It works, though. Jemma quickly settles into her seat and grabs a can from the cooler. Skye takes the other chair for herself.

They don’t have to wait long for the movie to start. They also don’t have to wait long to realize they’d rather make out on the floor of the pickup bed than actually watch the movie.


	24. Back of a Library

"I thought you said you needed help finding a book," Jemma whispers.

"I lied," Skye shrugs, and brushes a hand against the sensitive spot on the left side of Jemma’s torso.

"We’re supposed to be studying," Jemma continues to argue, despite the pleasant shiver that trails up her spine at Skye’s touch.

"The test isn’t for another five days," Skye smiles at how obviously Jemma’s affected by her proximity. "We’ve got plenty of time to study."

"Not if you keep doing… this whenever we’re alone," Jemma tries to sound annoyed, but fails. "Not that we’re really alone, anyone could walk past here and see us."

"Jemma," Skye leans in so her lips are inches from the other woman’s, "we’re on the top floor of the library in between a bunch of books about farming. There isn’t even an agriculture major in this school."

Jemma sighs deeply and Skye can can smell traces of herbal tea on her breath.

"If you fail this test, I am not to be held responsible," she says firmly before leaning forward against Skye’s lips.


	25. Evil Scientist

"The only approval I need is mine."

"That’s some serious evil scientist shit right there," Skye says from directly behind Jemma, making her jump.

Jemma holds her hand over her chest, waiting for her heartbeat to slow and recover from that surprise.

"You try getting work done in a timely manner when Coulson has to approve half of the tests you run," she explains. "He’s finally given me complete oversight of the lab and I’m ecstatic."

"And I’m happy for you, as long as you don’t start making mind-control potions or anything like that," Skye teases.

"Oh, I took care of those years ago," Jemma deadpans, in a way that makes Skye question whether she really has made a mind-control potion.

But that lasts all of thirty seconds, until Jemma bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

"Ha ha, very funny," Skye grumbles. "You nearly had me there."

"You should have seen the look on your face," Jemma says through her laughter.


	26. Dance Class

“Ice and elevation,” Jemma instructs in full doctor mode as Skye collapses onto the couch.

“Never again,” Skye groans.

Quickly and efficiently, Jemma fills two large plastic bags with ice and gathers up all the pillows in the living room. She piles them under Skye’s legs and places one bag of ice on top of each foot.

“I said I was sorry,” she reminds Skye. “I didn’t think I’d be so bad at it. It doesn’t look difficult.”

“You refused to slow dance at Bobbi’s wedding, but you thought ballroom dancing looked easy?” Skye remarks. “You’re lucky I love you, because your heels were like foot-seeking missiles. If you really want to make it up to me, you’ll give me a foot massage.”

The second Jemma’s hands touch Skye’s left foot, she yelps.

“I take it back. If you really want to make it up to me, you’ll stop.”


	27. Kitchen

“Do you think I could fit in the fridge?” Skye asks out of nowhere.

She’s entertaining fantasies of curling up in there are remembering what it was like to not be a walking puddle of sweat.

Jemma shrugs without looking up from the crossword puzzle she’s doing, “Yes, but you’d have to empty it first and I doubt you want your morning coffee with sour milk.”

She has a point, although the only way Skye’s taking her morning coffee is iced. They’re three days into a huge heat wave, and even Skye’s stopped complaining about their lack of air conditioning. It takes up way too much energy to do so and it just makes her feel hotter.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Skye asks, certain that Jemma will have come up with some way to beat the heat.

Yesterday, they went to the public pool. It was nice, until all the summer camps let out for the day and suddenly it was swamped. Jemma nearly punched a kid in the face while practicing her breaststroke.

The day before, they’d opted for the movies. That had also been packed. But after a double feature of summer blockbusters, they’d run out of things worth seeing.

“I have actual work to get done,” Jemma tells her.

Skye pouts. The thought of staying in the house any longer than she has to is physically painful.

“And how long is that going to take?” Skye asks hopefully.

“If you clean up the breakfast dishes, I think I can be done in time for lunch,” Jemma says.

Skye can live with that. If she gets desperate, she can always lie in the grass next to one of their sprinklers. That should cool her off.

“Deal,” she agrees. “But only if lunch can be ice cream.”

Jemma rolls her eyes. Even the world’s most miserable heat wave (which has to be made worst by the fact that Jemma is English, and not exactly used to temperature extremes), isn’t going to keep her from proper nutrition.

“Your lunch can be ice cream,” Jemma gives in. “We’ll go to the diner, and I’ll get something that won’t put me in a sugar coma.”

Personally, Skye thinks her lunch sounds better, but she knows better than to argue with Jemma.

Getting up from the table, Skye walks past Jemma on her way to rinse of her plate. She leans over and plants a sloppy kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek.

“Ugh, too hot,” Jemma complains.

“Aw thanks,” Skye teases. “You’re not too bad yourself.”


	28. 1AM

Skye crawls onto her side of the bed and leans in close.

“Are you awake,” she whispers into Jemma’s ear.

Jemma flinches.

“Now I am,” she grumbles.

“Ooh, sorry,” Skye apologizes. That probably wasn’t her brightest idea. “It’s just—I can’t sleep.”

Jemma sighs and checks the clock before rolling over to face Skye.

“It’s one in the morning,” she whines. She’s only gotten three hours of sleep, and she’d like to get a few more before she starts her day. “Don’t you always stay up this late?”

Jemma might be an early bird, preferring to be up and starting her day sometime around six, but Skye is a night owl. On days when they’re both muddling through complicated work projects, their paths sometimes cross at four or five in the morning.

But 1AM? Even Jemma needs to get some shut-eye.

“Yeah, but I just got back from Berlin, so technically it’s 7AM,” Skye explains.

“Did you sleep on the plane?” Jemma asks. Even exhausted, she’s reasonable.

“Well yeah,” Skye tells her, turning onto her back, eyes still focused on the outline of Jemma’s face in the dark. “It was a commercial flight, seven hours.”

“And you don’t think that’s keeping you up?” Jemma’s eyes feel heavy, she needs to get back to sleep.

“Probably,” Skye looks at the ceiling and huffs in frustration. She’s going to be a mess tomorrow morning.

Jemma’s silent for a good minute, and Skye thinks she might have fallen asleep. She’s about to get out of bed and go fish her laptop out of her carry-on, when Jemma finally speaks.

“There are sleeping pills on my side of the bathroom vanity,” she grumbles.

They’re really not supposed to be used in this kind of situation, but she’s tired enough that desperate times call for desperate measures.


	29. A defeaning sound

“Holy shit,” Jemma screams, followed by a fairly impressive stream of what Skye thinks are French swear words.

She didn’t even know Jemma spoke French.

It takes Jemma a few seconds to compose herself, but then she turns her glare on Skye, who shrugs and smiles weakly.

“Practice makes perfect,” she suggests.

Jemma scowls, “Practice makes perfect in the training room, or your room. Hell, even the kitchen would be better than the lab.”

Skye knows she’s right, but she mastered pitch matching all of the glassware in the kitchen months ago. Jemma’s lab has plenty of interesting challenges.

Skye considers pouting, but that never works on Jemma. In fact, it usually turns her into stone cold Doctor Simmons, the patient’s worst nightmare.

Instead, Skye lurks in the lab, watching over Jemma’s shoulder as she runs tests on the samples they’ve taken from some of the other Inhumans Skye’s been finding.

It’s not the most exciting thing in the world, but it sure beats watching football with Hunter.

Apparently Jemma doesn’t appreciate her presence though, because it only takes a few minutes for her to shoo Skye out the door.

She makes faces through the glass windows, and a couple minutes later Jemma pulls a weirdly shaped glass container out of a cabinet and approaches the doors.

“Here,” she shoves it into Skye’s hands. “Take it somewhere where you won’t break anything else.”

Skye smiles triumphantly. Jemma Simmons is a tough nut to crack, but sometimes she succeeds.


	30. Bobbing for Apples

Everyone thinks Jemma Simmons is a sweet English rose. Skye knows better.

Yes, Jemma likes playing by the rules. Yes, Jemma does what’s expected of her.

But Jemma Simmons also curses like a sailor, in at least three languages (one of which Skye’s pretty sure is made up).

So when she pulls her head out of the large bucket set up in Trip’s living room and starts screaming in French, most of their friends are shocked. Skye’s just amused.

Until Jemma rubs the water from her bloodshot eyes and glares at Skye.

“Did you put vodka in the apple bin?” she demands.

“Gin,” Skye corrects her. “It’s a gin bucket.”

Skye’s specialty. For a party this size, she needed three bottles of gin along with the usual sprite, powdered lemonade, water, and apples (whole instead of sliced, so they’ve been soaking in her kitchen for a day).

“You’re not supposed to get gin in your eyes,” Jemma hisses.

Skye blushes. Duh. That makes complete sense. She knows this. Jemma uses rubbing alcohol to clean all their cuts and scrapes. That certainly stings. Gin isn’t any different.

Too bad she hadn’t thought of that when came up with bobbing for gin apples.

“I’m so sorry,” Skye says, pulling Jemma towards the bathroom.

She’s going to be making this one up to her girlfriend for a long time.


	31. Flannel Shirts

“Do you think they’ll find this weird?” Jemma asks, as Skye fiddles with the timer on her phone.

Skye shrugs, “Not any weirder than what we do for a living.”

Jemma sighs. What they do for a living is totally normal, at least to the friends they have that do the same exact thing.

She’s more concerned with the weird looks they’ve gotten just from walking hand and hand down the street together.

“Will you stop playing with that,” Jemma says. “It’s Snapchat, not an art show. Just hold out your arms, we’ll look fine.”

“Well you certainly look fine,” Skye says with a wink.

Jemma smacks her on the side of the arm, “Knock it off or I’m going back to the hotel to change.”

Skye pouts, “Come on, you said it was funny. I didn’t even know we owned the same shirt, much less that we both packed it for vacation.”

“It was funny until that woman behind us at the coffee shop told her husband we looked ridiculous,” Jemma says.

She was more than a little bit embarrassed by the incident.

“Jem, she was wearing a giant dog brooch. Clearly her taste is fashion shouldn’t be trusted. Now smile for the camera.”

Jemma wraps one of her purple flannel arms around Skye’s waist, which is covered in identical purple flannel. They look silly, but it’s not like they’ll be in Montreal again any time soon. The only people who will know are them, and their friends back at the base, assuming Skye ever stops messing around with the settings on her phone’s camera.


	32. Candy Corn

Jemma’s not surprised when she follows the low moaning noise to the living room and finds Skye curled up in a ball on the couch with an empty bag of candy corn.

“I told you to save some for the trick-or-treaters,” she says.

Skye glares at her and upends the bag of candy. One little pouch of orange pieces falls to the floor.

Bending over, Jemma picks up the bag, pulls it open, and pops them into her mouth.

“Mmmm, this are pretty good in small amounts,” she teases.

Skye lets out a snort of amusement. Luckily, being sick to her stomach hasn’t robbed her of a sense of humor.

The doorbell rings, and Skye looks at her empty bag with horror.

“Do you think we can pretend we’re not home?” she asks.

Jemma shakes her head, “There’s a bag of Snickers in my purse.”

Skye whines, “Snickers are my favorite.”

“I know, that’s why I hid them.”


	33. Leaves

“Look, I say this with all the love and affection in the world,” Skye begins. “You need to calm the hell down.”

So far today, Jemma had cleaned both bathrooms, vacuumed the upstairs, washed the windows, and cooked both the mashed potatoes and the sweet potatoes, which were now awaiting her parents’ arrival in the refrigerator.

Right now she’s wrestling their two rakes out of the backyard storage shed, something that involves knocking over half their gardening supplies, and nearly impaling herself on a snow shovel.

“It’s my parents’ first Thanksgiving,” Jemma protests.

Thanksgiving has got to be one of Jemma’s favorite American traditions. It allows her to cook and cook for days, and then spend the entire day with her friends. Her parents need to love it as much as she does.

She’s hoping it will be enough to keep them from bothering her about how infrequently she visits.

“And they’re going to love it even more if you haven’t worked yourself into the grave before they get here,” Skye tells hers.

Seriously, it’s enough to make Skye glad that her biological parents are out of the picture. Phil’s always overjoyed to see her when he can make it out; it doesn’t matter if they order in every night or if the house is a total pigsty.

She’s pretty sure the Simmonses feel the same way, even though she’s only met them once before. All this pressure Jemma’s putting on herself to have the Best Thanksgiving Ever stems from her own over-achiever personality.

“I’m not going to work myself into the grave,” Jemma insists. “I’m going to work myself into a cozy home and lovely meal with the people I love.”

“And how will leaves on the front lawn affect that in any way?” Skye asks.

It won’t. Jemma cannot possibly come up with a good excuse for taking a second pass at the lawn.

She doesn’t. Instead she just shoves one of the rakes into Skye’s hands and storms past her.

It looks like Skye is going to have to take drastic measures.

“Jemma, I love you,” she reminds her girlfriend, mostly so she doesn’t end up murdered after the stunt she’s about to pull, “but this is for your own good.”

And with that, she launches herself into one of the giant piles of leaves Jemma raked together in the corner of the front yard.

Leaves fly everywhere.

Jemma looks like she’s about to hyperventilate.

Slowly, Skye approaches her, and pulls her towards the pile at the other end of their lawn.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Skye teases. “But you need to chill.”

“If something goes wrong on Thursday, I’m blaming it on you,” Jemma replies.

Skye thinks that’s a good sign.

With a loud sigh, Jemma falls backwards into the pile of leaves. There’s a pleasant crunching sound as they cushion her fall. With a little more enthusiasm, Skye jumps in next to her.

“I think we should take the afternoon off,” Skye suggests. After all, there are still plenty of leaves to play in in the backyard.

“Fine, but I need to start the cornbread after dinner.”


	34. Bonfire

Skye loves autumn. She likes the changing leaves, and the crisp air, and pumpkin flavored everything. She's especially fond of bonfire parties up at Trip’s grandfather’s farm.

Tonight, she’d showed up early to help Trip, Hunter, and Bobbi set everything up, which really meant helping Trip and Bobbi while Hunter sat around and whined at them. He was kind of a pain in the ass.

But now that the sun was down and the party was in full swing, Hunter had disappeared to flirt other girls while not so secretly pining after Bobbi, so Skye didn’t have to deal with them.

She’d help Trip man the bar, but he’d deemed her beer pouring skills as lacking and sent her off to enjoy herself.

That meant a little dancing, a little chatting, a little arguing with Mack over his taste in music.

Now she was sitting on a log in front of the bonfire, just relaxing and watching the crowd.

In particular she was watching a cute girl she saw around town a lot, likely a student at the local university. She was too far away to hear, on the other side of the fire, but Skye knew from personal experience that her name was Jemma she had a particularly musical sounding British accent.

Skye had a thing for accents.

Skye’s been trying for the last two weeks to introduce herself, but whenever Jemma stopped by the coffee shop Skye worked at, she was never alone. This is actually the first time Skye’s seen her without Fitz, her maybe boyfriend, maybe best friend, maybe long lost Scottish twin brother. Skye hasn’t figured out exactly what their relationship is.

But she’s excited, because at long last Jemma is free to approach. Skye gets to her feet to walk over when she notices Jemma is swerving awkwardly around the fire.

She might be drunk. As Skye gets closer, she can see the glassed over look in Jemma’s eyes.

Definitely drunk, then.

Skye’s a few away when Jemma stumbles over someone’s discarded can of beer. She tries to regain her balance, but she tips over directly towards the fire.

Luckily, Skye’s fast on her feet. She’s pulling Jemma out of harms way before the other woman can so much as singe a strand of her soft-looking hair.

“Thank you,” Jemma says, seeming surprised that she’s not on fire. “I think these drinks are stronger than they look.”

Skye takes a peek at the peachy pink liquid in Jemma’s cup, a concoction of Trip’s than magically manages contain an obscene amount of alcohol while actually tasting really good.

“Yeah,” Skye agrees. “Do you want to sit down?”

She’s concerned that if she lets go now, Jemma will trip into the fire in the next five minutes.

“Please. And then you should tell me your name, so I can thank you. With a card. And flowers. And a promise to stick to beer next time, even though I hate the taste.”


	35. Knitting a Scarf

“You’re terrible at cuddling,” Skye pouts.

“I’m working,” Jemma replies, fingers swiftly wrapping yarn around her knitting needles.

“Well stop working and start the cuddles,” Skye whines. “I have needs, you know.”

“And I need to get this done by Christmas,” Jemma tells her.

She doesn’t put her knitting down, even when Skye ties to bribe her with hot chocolate.

So Skye makes herself comfortable in a cocoon of blankets, and watches the movie on the other side of the couch. She considers intentionally stealing all the blankets when they go to bed, but that would just be petty.

But two days later, when she unwraps one of the boxes under the tree to find the navy and purple scarf Jemma’s been working on, she starts to appreciate the fact that Jemma skimped on the cuddling.


	36. "It's two sugars, right?"

“Break time,” Skye announces as she walks into the lab.

Jemma’s so absorbed in her work that she nearly knocks everything over in surprise.

None of the scientists working under her say anything. Either they’ve come to expect this of her, or they’re too focused on their own research to notice.

“Just a few more minutes,” Jemma says to Skye.

Skye places the tray she’s carrying on the edge of Jemma’s table and waits with her hands on her hips.

After a couple of minutes she turns to one of the chemists and asks, “Is she working on anything time sensitive?”

The man, Jemma thinks his name is Jim, looks back and forth between the two of then like he’s trying to decide who intimidates him more.

Apparently it’s Skye.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, then decides he really needs to get something out of a cabinet across the room.

“You have three seconds or I put your experiment through some turbulence,” Skye threatens.

Jemma quickly backs away from the table, “This is sensitive equipment.”

“So is your body,” Skye says. “You skipped dinner again.”

“I most certainly…” Jemma checks the clock at the front of the lab. 9:48. How the hell did that happen? “Oops.”

“I brought you tea and cookies,” Skye nudges the tray towards her, “because I figured that was easier than getting you upstairs for real food.”

“Thank you,” Jemma reaches for one of the cookies. They’re the shortbread ones that Hunter bought off some girl scouts in the middle of a mission last week.

He got a long lecture from Coulson and now they’re all reaping the delicious benefits.

One bite and she immediately feels more settled. She really needs to start paying better attention to her eating habits.

“It’s two sugars, right?” Skye lifts one mug up and hands it to Jemma.

It smells amazing.

“Yes,” she gratefully accepts the drink. It’s still piping hot, and the first sip washes away the permanent cold generated in the lab.

When it was just her and Fitz in the lab, she used to keep an electric kettle in one of the cabinets. The third day after she settled into their current situation, someone filled the kettle with some foul smelling chemical.

She had to throw it out.

Jemma misses it. She’s considered buying a new one. Perhaps if she labeled it more clearly people wouldn’t use it for work.

Taking a break allows Jemma’s body to catch up with her day. After just a few minutes, her stomach grumbles and she starts to feel tired. She stuffs a few cookies into her mouth, but it doesn’t do anything to alleviate her hunger.

Maybe she needs more than a break.

“Skye?” she asks.

“Real food?” Skye guesses.

Jemma nods.

“You clean up, and I’ll make us some eggs,” Skye tells her. “I think we might even have bacon.”

Just thinking about bacon makes Jemma salivate.

“You’re amazing,” she says.

“Tell me about it,” Skye jokes, already halfway out the door.


	37. Jail

“I’m in jail,” says the familiar English accent on the other end of the phone.

Daisy’s lucky she’s not holding anything important, because the fork in her hand clatters to the ground.

“How the hell did that happen?” she hisses into the phone.

Tentatively, Jemma replies, “I needed some information from the ATCU. They were running tests on the corpses and they were giving me the run around. So Hunter and I went to get it ourselves.”

Daisy’s not sure whether to laugh or to cry. Any idea Lance Hunter would agree to is clearly a terrible one, and under normal circumstances Jemma knows this.

But even though she’s been back in the lab for a month, and she’s stopped telling people she needs to go back to planet she was stranded on, Daisy knows better than to assume things are normal again.

She just wishes she’d been paying better attention.

“And what jail are you in?” Daisy asks, once she regained her composure.

“They told us, but I wasn’t paying attention,” Jemma replies, making it even clearer that she’s not herself anymore.

Daisy sighs, and turns to her computer, “I’m tracing the call; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As soon as she can convince Mack not to tell Coulson about this, that is.

“Thank you,” Jemma says quietly.

“You just make sure Hunter knows I haven’t decided whether we’re bringing him back too, or leaving him to rot,” Skye snaps.

She’d really been hoping today would be uneventful.


	38. Costumes

“You do know Raggedy Andy was a dude, right?” Hunter asks when Skye and Jemma arrive at the party.

Jemma just rolls her eyes, she’s used to him by now.

Skye says, “With all that blush? I think an argument can be made either way.”

It’s not like the man in the giant gorilla costume (borrowed from a friend of a friend and smelling oddly of salad dressing) has any room to talk.

“You do have a point,” Lance reconsiders, “you might own even more flannel than Andy.”

And that’s when they decide that drunk Hunter isn’t always that much fun. Skye flips him off as they walk towards the makeshift bar.

“Tell me you made that all by hand,” Trip says when he spots them. His Han Solo costume is accurate, but definitely spot on.

“Did you know that a sewing machine is more complicated than sutures,” Jemma answers him.

“And I had a nasty run-in with a glue gun,” Skye adds. Jemma turns to look at her expectantly. “Two nasty run-ins with a glue gun,” she corrects herself. “Luckily I’m dating a doctor.”

“Okay, next year we’re leaving the base and we’re doing a group costume,” Trip insists. “I tried to talk Fitz into going as Luke tonight, but he refused.”

“Fitz isn’t a fan of Halloween,” Jemma explains.

“Can you believe it’s not a big thing in Britain?” Skye asks him. She turns to Jemma, “You were so deprived as a child.”

Jemma chuckles, “So you’ve told me. But I’m making up for it now.”

Skye waggles her eyebrows, “How about making out for it now?”

“Later.”


End file.
